And Her Name Is Volara
by L. Century
Summary: For a Cheeky Monkeys Challenge. Alistair learns that the new Grey Warden is named Volara, Orlesian for thief. He finds out just how clever she is at stealing hearts. Alistair POV.  Beta-ed. Rated M to err on the side of caution.


A/N: This was a response to a Cheeky Monkeys Challenge posted by the wonderful Eva Galana in which Alistair needed to get _The_ Warden and not end up king.

This has been beta-ed by the amazingly talented Dasque. The original was a hot mess. In her brilliance, she helped me give this piece the justice I think it deserves. It was also inspired by her piece_ Always (It's so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes.) _I'm still sitting here a little amazed at even hooking her on this project.

Her ID #: is 2216198. (Sorry, silly FF won't let me post her page.) Go check her out. You won't regret it.

For a little mood music, I wrote it listening to the song Heaven by OAR and the song Good Life by One Republic. Please enjoy!

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And so the note comes, and I'm told that Cousland's little princess will be joining our ranks. I prepare myself for a prissy noble who doesn't know how to get her hands dirty—'cause, don't you know, all nobles fart roses and sunshine—but what shows up standing next to Duncan isn't even close.

And she strolls into camp with short red hair that comes to her chin and a large silver tattoo over her eye that reminds me of a dragon. She rolls her green eyes while Duncan gives the introductions, and seems to be picking something out of her teeth with her tongue. I get the sneaking suspicion that she could take me in a fight, despite the fact she only comes to my chest.

And she tells me that her name is Volara, which means thief in Orlesian. I find out quickly just how suited the name is for her. There's something in her eyes that's _just _a little too knowing, and she reminds me a little too much of Daveth. The two seem to hit it off instantaneously. I can't help but wonder what in Thedas Duncan was thinking, recruiting this one.

And we head off to the Wilds. Despite the fact she looks like a tiny doll I remember seeing in some shop somewhere, she's blindingly fast. Before I can even see anything happen, two genlocks are dead, and she's yawning. I'm wondering if we're somehow boring the noble with all this blood and death nonsense.

And then Ostagar happens, and she's looting everything in sight. It seems highly inappropriate that during a battle she's taking pins out of her hair to open chests with. She's a thief.

And I learn she's not _just _a thief—she also drinks like a fish and swears like a sailor. Some of the things she says make me wish I had a dictionary. When I ask the bard to explain them to me, I end up wishing I hadn't, more often than not.

And then we pick up the assassin, and our party's a jail cell just _waiting _to happen 'cause now we have a thief, a spy, and a _killer_, and I realize I've never been around so many criminal masterminds in my entire life.

And nights in our camp are filled with card games that always seem to wind up with people being naked, and drinking games that go on all night long. I'm usually left wondering how it is that she still has a liver, or can still wake up in the morning, for that matter. The three rogues have a contest to see who can steal the most, and at night they lay their prizes out before the campfire. I have to admit, I'm horrified and fascinated at the same time.

And she likes to tease me and make me blush. She asks me if I know how to give a girl a good time. When I tell her I haven't, she lets me know there's been quite a few lamp posts that she's licked in her lifetime.

And I find myself wondering how a noblewoman ends up like her.

And we get the healer who kind of reminds me of the grandmother I've never had. The little thief is constantly finding ways to irritate her. I learn it's actually a bet she and the assassin have going. I'm not sure what to make of that.

And then we save Eamon. My past comes out. He begins going on and on about me taking up the crown. She rolls her eyes and asks him why in the world he thinks I would want that? According to the little thief, kings are cursed with sitting on thrones, and marrying women they don't love, and dying of boredom long before they're due. She turns to me, asking if I want to be king when I could travel the world instead. I shake my head, because I really _don't_. She turns to Eamon and says "See?" and pinches my cheeks. I'm left blushing like a maiden, and my rear hurts with how hard she got me, but I think, maybe for a second, that she understands.

And the assassin and the thief go off alone all the time together into the woods, supposedly hunting. I could have sworn they were together, which is just as well, 'cause she'd probably eat me alive if she had the chance. One night when I go to take a bath in the river, I catch them sitting together, passing a bottle of brandy back and forth. Zevran asks her if she wants company for the night. I hear her voice drop as she tells him she knows he's too good for her. When he chuckles and asks who her little eye is on, she replies no one in particular.

And when he pushes the issue and asks if she has her eye on the little virgin Templar, there's only more silence.

And the wind picks up, howling in my ear, and I give a quick, silent prayer to the Maker to keep it down. Doesn't he understand I'm trying to eavesdrop here? The wind does stop, and it's as silent as the Chantry. In a small voice, I hear her say, "None of us are good enough for Alistair. Least of all me."

And the assassin begins teasing her for falling for the Templar. Her voice becomes more venomous as she threatens to make him spend his watch naked if he keeps it up, giving a whole new meaning to the term blue balls. I grimace at that one, since it's just started snowing and there are no signs of it stopping. He doesn't seem perturbed by her threat—and it's not a bluff, since I'm certain she'd follow through—and tells her that her secret is safe with him.

And I'm left thinking that maybe Duncan knew something I didn't with this one.

And a few weeks later, I'm staring at the rose I picked, then at her. Before I decide anything my legs are taking me over to her without my permission, and I'm giving her the rose. I'm blabbering on about Maker knows what. She's just staring down at the rose and then back up at me without saying a word. I end up walking away, thinking I'm going to die of humiliation.

And a week later, she's sitting on a log with her legs opening and closing in front of me as she watches my expression. I'm about to go into my tent, flustered, before I notice her shiver. I can't stop myself as I walk over and put a blanket around her shoulders. Before I leave, she turns her head and kisses the corner of my lips. I just look at her, and she rubs the tip of her nose against mine. I'm not sure what to do, so I say goodnight and walk back to my tent. I can't help but see the look of disappointment on her face, or the way she carefully avoids me the next day.

And then she gets me the Grey Warden hand puppets. I laugh as she forces me to put on silly shows for her. I only agree to do it because it'll mean she's with the assassin less, and I suddenly realize that's what I _really _want.

And then I begin to stay up with her during her shifts, talking to her. I realize she's smart. I mean—she's _really _smart. Maybe she's decided to read all those books she's been stealing. I continue to ask her questions, looking into her eyes. She suddenly blushes, and I wonder if anyone has ever told her that she's beautiful before.

And then we meet that shrew, Goldanna. I'm left confused. As I blabber on about having no one, she looks at me and tells me I'm not alone.

And I'm not _entirely _sure, but I think she pick-pockets a noble that walks by us just then.

And we go back to camp. Later that night, when I'm feeling lower than low, she comes to me, and asks if I want to spend the night with her. I say yes—because really, what do I have left to lose?—and follow her. She undresses me slowly, and my hands are shaking and my heart is about to beat out of my chest. She takes her own armor off and looks at me in a way no other woman has ever looked at me before. She takes my hand, sliding it down, whispering, "This is how I liked to be touched, Alistair."

And I'm not sure if it would be too much to ask, but I'm kind of hoping she'll draw me a map I can study.

And she's sleeping next to me. I'm left riddled with anxiety over whether she enjoyed herself. It seems she did, because every night, she comes back and asks me to join her again. As the little thief lies curled up on my chest, I wonder when it's all going to end.

And then we go to Orzammar and crown a king, and get some golems made, and pick up another drunk, and now the party's complete.  
>And then the Landsmeet comes. Anora is made queen. I sigh in relief 'cause it's finally all over, and I'm free, and I have no one but my little thief to thank, which I do that night once we're back in camp.<p>

And then we show up in Redcliffe, and find out how to kill the Archdemon.

And as I walk back to my room, I know the end has come.

And as I begin pacing my room, I hear shouting coming from hers, along with a string of curses I understand more of now. I hear a bottle smash along the wall, along with Morrigan's voice. I find myself desperately hoping that she's kicking Morrigan's ass, but I run in to see what's going on. Morrigan tells me. I look at my little thief. Her arms are crossed as she tells me she's going to be the one to end it.

And at the most inopportune time in the world, it becomes clear my thief has some morals after all, and a heart more noble than most will ever know.

And as I shake my head no, and take the witch to my bed, I know this may be the last time I ever see my little thief.

And the next day she won't even look at me. I can't blame her for that, but letting her die was no kind of option at all. As we stand at the top of Fort Drakon, I pray all this works. I'm so distracted that I realize, too late, that my little thief has stolen my sword and is plunging it into the Archdemon. All I see is blinding light. My blood feels like it's boiling inside as she's thrown halfway across the roof, breaking every bone in her body.

And as I sit by her bedside day in and day out, I whisper sweet nothings to her. I won't leave, afraid that when she wakes, she'll tell me to leave. This may be all the time I have left with her.

And when she does wake up and can move around, she climbs on top of me her nails clawing down my chest as she rides me, and I realize she thinks she's reclaiming me.

And I let her think that, even though _I _know she never lost me.

And when it's over and she's panting, she whispers into my ear that she loves me. I smile and tell her that that's it—she's mine from here on out.

And after Anora's coronation, I have to go to Weisshaupt and she has to go to Vigil's Keep. She tells me that she'll take me as far as she can. I don't mind following my little thief at all—especially not in those little skirts she calls armor.

And we end up in Orlais before we have to part. She gives me that look that no other woman has ever given me, telling me I'm to come back soon. I tell her I will because really, who else is going to keep me out of trouble?

And I return months later, and she leaves the Keep, asking me, "So, where to now?" The next day finds us on a ship, watching the sunset from the rail, and I kiss her as she stands tucked beneath my arm. We sail on to Llomeryn.

And the years pass. The list of places we've visited keeps getting longer. I get all the adventures I had ever dreamed of as I boy, looking out the abbey windows. One day she's rummaging through that brown knapsack of hers, selling off items that will help pay for our lavish lifestyle for the next year. The merchant sees a magic rose, wrapped in purple silk, and offers to buy it. She shakes her head and tells him it's not for sale.

And she turns, and gives me _that look_, and I think to myself that Duncan was a _genius_.

And every day I wake up not knowing what my little thief is going to get us into. I'm thankful for that, and the life she's given me. So much so, in fact, that I decide I want her with me always. The next morning when we wake up and she asks what I want to do that day, I tell her getting married sounds like fun. She looks at me for a moment before she smiles and says changing her surname could be kinda fun. I go through the knapsack she has, and pull out a sapphire ring she's stolen from somewhere or another, and I slide it on her finger.

And that afternoon we go to the Chantry. She's wearing a pretty purple dress that's covering up more of her than anything I've ever seen her wear. We walk down the aisle together and say our vows, and I make the little thief my wife.

And a few weeks later we're in another city. I hear that the church we were in was robbed of artifacts dating back to the second Blight. I raise my eyebrow at her. She blinks her long eyelashes at me and says she wanted a souvenir to commemorate the day with. I laugh, supposing I could have become a king and worn a crown, sitting on a throne with a beautiful noblewoman at my side. But I prefer being just a guy who has the crown my thief stole at Anora's coronation, relaxing in our lavish apartment in a chair that sometimes reminds me of a throne, with a beautiful noblewoman at my side.

And a few more years roll by, and one day we're walking past an orphanage. She looks at me. I smile back.

And I ask her if it's time for another adventure.

...


End file.
